


lights blink in the distance

by trogoodkoe



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, Oneshot, Platonic Marichat - Freeform, adrien is kinda depresso, chat needs a hug tbh, flower shop au, ladybug doesnt make an appearance but is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 09:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19742845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trogoodkoe/pseuds/trogoodkoe
Summary: au where marinette's parents own a flowershop instead of a bakery.chat needs help selecting some flowers. mari is happy to help.based on that tumblr prompt where person a goes to person b's flower shop and asks "how do i passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?"





	lights blink in the distance

**Author's Note:**

> \--- is perspective change  
> 

Adrien was having a worse day than usual.

Gabriel Agreste had never been known for being a loving father. On the contrary, he had kept his son locked away ever since his wife had gone missing. Adrien had been allowed some leniency and granted the freedom to go to school, but nothing more. The boy had dealt with that – at least it was something, right? The beginning of a breakthrough.

Today, however, Adrien realized that freedom would never come unless he took it for himself. Young supermodel Agreste had gone to his father’s office early in the morning, nervously patting down his hair and hesitating in the doorway. He knocked and let his hand hover over the knob for a few heartbeats that pounded in his ears. _C’mon, Chat Noir, you can do this._ Leaping over buildings in one bound and saving the world in a leather suit didn’t grant him much confidence in real world situations.

“Father?” The tall man stood behind his desk, peering over his glasses at designs that littered the mahogany surface. At that moment, though, his cold gaze flickered to the blond boy.

“What is it, Adrien? I’m busy.”

“I was wondering if I could maybe go out? Just for a little bit, and-“

“What will you be doing?”

“I, uh, I’d be with some friends and we’d just be in the park and-“

“No, Adrien. You have school work to attend to, as well as your piano lesson.”

“But father!”

“No. That is final.”

As Adrien’s voice rose with hysteria, his presence became quieter. Less pronounced. He wouldn’t win this argument; he had lost it over and over again. But it just wasn’t. Fair.

“You never let me do anything on my own! I go to photoshoots and model your clothes and learn Chinese (He quite liked Chinese, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing) and play piano, and my grades are perfect!” His hands flew up to stop whatever Gabriel was going to say next, green eyes wild.

“I begged you for _months_ before you let me attend public school, and even then I don’t have any freedom. I’m escorted to and from school by the bodyguard you forced upon me. Please, _please_ let me do this. Just this once.”

Adrien was panting and his face was flushed. The fashion designer seemed to be deliberating before his expression steeled, walking to his son in slow strides. Dread sank Adrien’s stomach to the ground and his heart to his throat. He curled in on himself, backing away while he stared at his father’s shoes.

Gabriel Agreste encroached upon Adrien until the boy was right outside the room. “I said no, Adrien. And seeing as how your friends have obviously had a bad influence on you, I forbid you from seeing them anymore. You will obey.” And promptly shut the door in his face.

Adrien gaped at the closed door before his lips turned down into an ugly sob, gritting his teeth together. Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes against his will; they stung and filled him with a hot sense of shame. Oxygen escaped him in unhindered bursts, leaving him gasping for breath, desperation clawing at his chest and his aching throat.

“ _Why_ ?” The word came out mangled by the wetness. His face was contorted and angled down to the floor, wet marks smearing the surface as he scuffed his shoe over it. The urge to kick something, punch something, _hurt_ shot through Adrien’s system and furrowed his brow. He turned on the heel of his tangerine converse and stormed back to his room, slamming the door before throwing himself on his too-large bed in his father’s too-large house.

“Kid,” A cat head peeked out from the boy’s blazer, ears flattened against the crocodile tears that dripped from his charge’s face. The kwami flew up and settled himself across from Adrien, who looked up with slick eyes and angry eyebrows. Plagg, ever the one to start chaos, frowned and said “you could always sneak out.”  


That’s where Adrien was now. Out. In his cat-themed outfit and a mask that carefully obscured his identity from the public. He sat on the edge of a building with his legs pulled up and his baton at his side, scowling at the traffic that passed below him. His tears weren’t falling anymore, but the sensitivity made the tri-coloured lights blear and stretch across the darkening sky.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea for him to be alone (his mental state was getting worse by the minute), but he couldn’t stand another second in that godforsaken house. It tainted Adrien and got under his skin. Sometimes, he would feel like just sinking his nails into his arms and scratching until the gross feelings went away. Other times, Adrien would sit against the wall and hug himself until the temptation to peel all the imperfections off his face faded away. The urge to cataclysm himself into oblivion persisted even now. Oblivion, or whatever existed after death. Adrien liked to think it was more of an echo of yourself rather than heaven or hell or just ceasing to exist. A happy echo. Like nirvana.

The anger that burned white hot from his father was fading to dull embers as Chat Noir’s thoughts drifted, but the hurt was still fresh in his mind. It made his insides ache for his mom. There was nothing he wanted more than a hug from his mother. She would make everything better.

For now, though, she wasn’t here. The superhero was left alone to fend for himself. Well, not necessarily alone. There was always Ladybug.

Ladybug…

Chat Noir sighed, breath coming out frosty in the mid-autumn air. Ladybug was there for him, even if they had to skirt around the details of their private life. She was practically a goddess, clad in red and black…

He checked the time on his baton. It was getting late, but he didn’t really feel like going back home. _I mean, to my house._ It didn’t really feel like home to him. Home was cozy and warm and comfortable. That wasn’t his home. Chat Noir slid down the side of the building and blinked warily around. He was still bitter and, frankly, lucky that an akuma hadn’t infected him yet. He let out another long exhale before his attention was directed to a tinkling bell, one that wasn’t the one hanging around his neck. The owner of the sound was a cute flower shop that was attached to an apartment above it. To make out the name against the night sky, he had to squint.

_Dupain-Cheng Flower Shop._

Wasn’t that Marinette’s last name? And suddenly, Chat Noir was walking into the store with a smile plastered to his face.

\---

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was helping her parents with their flower shop. They wanted a date night, and in exchange for them bringing back dessert for her (and Tikki, but they didn’t need to know that) she agreed to watch the store and close for the night. She was perfectly fine with doing that. Besides, it wasn’t very busy as the day wore on. Why buy flowers at night?

There were still a few customers, of course. Mostly young faces coming to buy flowers for their significant others, whether it be as an apology or just a loving gesture. The girl liked to distract herself with fantasies of Adrien coming to buy flowers for her as she worked. It made the day easier to get through. 

The bell at the door announced the arrival of another customer and Marinette perked up, wanting to appear amiable. It helped sell, her parents told her. “Hello! Welcome to the Dupa-” She blinked in surprise as Chat Noir waltzed in. Did superheroes usually go flower shopping at 7:30? He walked closer with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, waving.

“Hello, er, Marinette, right?” She responded with a nod, her smile slipping as she took in his appearance. Of course, he looked mostly the same with the exception of a watery smile and a red-rimmed gaze.

“Yes! Uh,” Marinette tripped over a bag of potting soil as she hurried from behind the counter. Chat Noir seemed… wrong. “Can I get you something? Is, is everything okay?” She spoke slowly, searching. He hesitated just a beat too long before answering.

_This is weird._ The whole interaction was stilted. His gloved hands tugged at his hair and made it stick up in odd places. Chat looked away from her. “I, yeah, I’m fine. I was just looking for some flowers.”  


“Okay.” Silence stretched on and Marinette toyed with one of her pigtails, ribbon coming undone. She fixed it. The only sound was the ticking of the old fashioned clock hung on one of the walls and the scuffing of Chat’s steel-tipped shoes. He glanced back at her while his magical ears flattened, swallowing.

It really was dramatic, his swallow. Marinette caught herself watching how his Adam’s apple bounced. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Everything about Chat was dramatic. 

“So, what kind of flowers were you looking for?”

“Oh, um,” He twisted his tail between his fingers. She couldn’t remember when he had grabbed it. She couldn’t remember if this had ever been a nervous habit of his. Ladybug and Chat Noir, they breathed as one. Marinette and Chat Noir were completely different. An imbalance, if you would; but it was dangerously wonderful and new. “I was wondering if you could help me, maybe, um.” 

His expression became more resolved and he stopped stammering. _Had he been stammering?_ That wasn’t really something you noticed immediately about a person, especially one that you knew so well. As soon as Marinette realized she had noticed, though, her face flushed. She wasn’t completely sure why, but the transition from her nervous _chaton_ back to what she assumed would be her joking, flirty partner made her feel dirty. Like she was witnessing something she shouldn’t, his vulnerability. 

“How would I passive-aggressively say _fuck you_ in flower?”

_I- what?_

\---

Chat Noir had obviously shocked her with his request, but he was going to go through with it. Yelling wouldn’t get him anywhere with his father. Marinette mumbled something about how superheroes shouldn’t curse and he ran his fingers through his hair in abashment. It was kind of amazing how Marinette acted around people that weren’t Adrien Agreste. _She must really hate me._ It didn’t bother him as much as it should have, but Chat figured he could be closer friends with their class representative through his superhero persona and be satisfied that way. As his thoughts continued on, she went back to the counter and opened a drawer, pulling out a notepad with tons of scribbles on it. He tried to read some of the notations as she flipped through it, but it was no use.

Marinette stopped when she came to a page labeled **Emotions** in bold, misshapen letters. Sloppy. Cute. “Alright,” she tapped her nose with a finger. “I have a few different flowers that could do the job for you.” Chat Noir listened to her rattle off the kinds of flowers, trying to picture them in his mind before realizing he honestly didn’t know that much about flowers. He could remember that orange lilies meant hatred (did he hate his father? Of course not. He didn’t interrupt her) and that foxglove meant insincerity (he wondered briefly if that applied to this situation. Not particularly, but the rest of the flowers fit the bill better. He remained quiet), but the other flowers remained foreign to him as Marinette piled them together into a bouquet. 

It ended up being a semi-obnoxious bundle of colours that Chat Noir refrained from turning his nose up at. It was distasteful. His father would hate it. The thought brightened his eyes and he grasped the stems that Marinette had finished tying a big pink ribbon to. “Thank you so much, Marinette, these are perfect. How much will this be?”

“Oh, no, these are on the house. Superhero privilege, y’know?” She gave him a secret smile, one that Chat felt was familiar but in the wrong kind of way. Familiar, but not Marinette’s kind of familiar. He stifled his disconcertedness, offering her a confused smile in return. 

“Thank you again. Have a good night, Marinette.”

He didn’t go through with his idea until the following afternoon.

The expression on his father’s face was priceless. Adrien had politely knocked on the door and waited for Gabriel to answer, feigning remorse as he apologized for his actions from the day prior. Before the door was shut in his face again, he moved the bouquet from behind his back and offered it to the taller man.

His father’s eyes betrayed his disgust. 

“These are…” _Horrendous? Horrific?_ “Lovely, Adrien. Thank you. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” With that, Gabriel Agreste grabbed the flowers with the least amount of fingers as possible as if they would contaminate him. Adrien’s smile became more rakish as his father pulled the flowers away, having one side of the ribbon between his pointer finger and thumb. The pink bow came undone and the foxglove and different coloured floral arrangement fell apart, littering the ground. The boy sprang away in mock surprise, muttering another apology and his father practically shook in fury at the pollen stains on his trousers. 

Adrien hurried away, covering his grin with his hand. Plagg started laughing alongside his charge after the bedroom door was shut behind them, tears of mirth running down Adrien’s cheeks. 

“Did you see his face!” The sentence was broken with whoops of laughter, the two unable to catch their breath. 

“You did good, kid. You did good.”

  


\---

Marinette could hear her mother calling for her. She almost fell through the trapdoor and tripped twice running down the stairs, but remained relatively uninjured. Tikki giggled at her clumsiness with a wistful “Careful, Marinette!”

“Yes, _maman_?”

“You have a visitor.”

It was Adrien. 

Marinette couldn’t stop herself from gaping. He tugged a hand through his hair with an embarrassed smile. _Adrien is all things good in the world._ He was the fairy lights that lit up Paris during Christmas. He was sunshine and bright and the mere sight of his golden hair set her heart aflutter. Meeting his eyes ( _green, so green_ ) made Marinette’s stomach twist painfully, but she forced herself to greet him as red rode up her neck. 

“Uh, hi! What’s up? You’re looking pretty hot today! I mean-- it looks pretty hot out today!” She buried her burning face in her hands as Adrien laughed.

“I just wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

“Flowers? What flowers?” Had she sent him flowers? Had he ordered flowers for someone? The butterflies in her stomach were swarming and her cheeks were ablaze. _He looks warm, oh, I just want him to take me into his arms and never let go._ She was falling, falling, falling.

“Y’know, the uh, the flowers from yesterday. The foxglove and stuff.”

“Oh, no problem.” Marinette was barely registering what he said, much less what she was saying in return. It was very much an empty conversation from her side. She was too busy keeping her eyes trained on his mouth, imagining what it would feel like against her own. 

“I- wait, foxglove?” Marinette knew nobody had bought that kind of flower yesterday. Who would? The plant was toxic. She could recall Chat Noir coming in and asking for a bouquet with a certain message, and that had certainly contained foxglove, but… 

She peered at Adrien, squinting her eyes. That wasn’t possible. Chat Noir was the mist that came with twilight, the scent of cement after it had rained for hours. He was stray. The very idea was preposterous. Where Chat was a motorcycle stopped at an intersection, Adrien was the stoplight overhead flickering from red to green. _He is pulling on his hair in an awfully similar way, though…_

“Chat?” Adrien realized his mistake as the word escaped her lips, eyes widening and mouth opening in a small ‘o’ shape. A solid minute passed before either of them did anything else, the boy clearing his throat and giving her his most uneasy smile, eyebrows drawn together in what was obviously anxiety. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Here. Hello,” his hand was outstretched, introducing himself to her in a new light.

Marinette screamed.


End file.
